Walk it Off
I was hiking with my sister the other day and, as it often does with us, the conversation eventually found its way to sports. My sister is a highly intelligent, perceptive, self-aware and spiritual person, and also happens to be deeply in love with the game of baseball. Our conversations that turn to sports almost always find their way to it. We were born in Boston - there’s a baseball team there, perhaps you’ve heard of them - and both played baseball/softball in our youth. I stopped playing when I was 13, and my sister played softball until her senior year of high school. Both of us stopped when we did at least in part because of coaching. My story about the coaches that I wish I’d had will get told in this newsletter at some point; her story is hers to tell. The conversation in question, however, was not about what might have been if only reality had been different, if only we had possessed knowledge and skills that we didn’t have at the time. This day, on the trail, my sister got a muscle cramp, and - being the supportive brother that I am - once I knew she was ok, I told her to walk it off. Which, of course, brought the conversation to sports, coaching, and the life skills that, as it turns out, we learn from playing the games we love.
So, what does that really mean, to “walk it off?” Athletes in every land-based sport have heard it as a directive, usually after a fall or collision or minor injury. My sport was basketball (which I’m sure comes as a 6 ½ foot tall surprise to you), and I literally cannot count the number of times that I “walked off” a rolled ankle, a jammed finger, a knee to the thigh or an elbow to the chest. From a physical standpoint, walking it off is a vital skill for evaluating the severity of what just happened; am I injured, or am I just hurt? I can play hurt. If it’s minor, walking it off can also include getting my ankle or finger taped, riding the bike to keep blood flowing through the impact zone so it doesn’t stiffen up, or doing some gentle mobility exercises. The ability to physically walk it off is, as with all things pertaining to human beings, both innate and learned. Some people literally have a higher tolerance to pain than others, and some bodies bounce back in ways others do not. We can train physically to be stronger, more flexible, tougher, and more resilient, and to trust all those things when the time comes to engage in the process of evaluating the seriousness of that rolled ankle, jammed finger, or bruised muscle or bone. Here, our relationship to physical pain comes to the immediate forefront of the internal negotiation about whether or not we can continue.
- How much does it hurt?
- Is it going to interfere with my ability to perform?
- If I can’t be at 100%, can my reduced performance still help the team?
- What’s my past experience with this type of injury?
- Did I feel it pop?
- How high are the stakes in the game that I’m playing?
- Is it worth the elevated risk of going back in?
- What’s my gut telling me?
These questions and many more can get answered as we’re physically walking it off (if you can’t walk, that sort of answers them all. You are injured!). The physical act of walking it off gives time, space, and physical feedback to answer these kinds of questions. In some ways, although occasionally devastating, most physical injuries are straightforward. If we can walk them off and get back to doing our thing, we do. If we can’t, we have technology that can take a picture of a torn ligament or broken bone. There are specialists to test mobility and strength. There is a general timetable for recovery, a rehab process, and usually social acceptance of the fact that a person can’t play until they are healed. This is not to suggest that anything in that process is easy, however the physical side is more visible and often clearer, and the biggest hurdle for an athlete coming back from an injury is usually not physiological. Walking it off is also a process of engaging in a psychological and emotional pattern of handling adversity that we have developed over time, into which play a number of factors.
As my sister was walking off her cramp (not serious, no pop, didn’t interfere with her ability to keep going), we got to talking about the how the physical aspect of walking it off is really the smallest part of the process. More than anything, walking it off is a mental exercise, and it’s not just something that we do after a physical injury. In addition to allowing us to potentially play through physical pain, walking it off gives us time to reset mentally and emotionally. As I said above, we need time to get our mind right after something like a rolled ankle. However, when we really need it is after a mistake, some poor play, or some good old self-inflicted failure. Our 3rd consecutive turnover, 8th straight missed shot, 12th straight strikeout, a grounder through the legs or off the glove, an easy touchdown dropped in the end zone with no defender around. A missed penalty kick. A botched defensive assignment. A losing streak. There are so many more ways to fail than succeed in sports.
The moment an athlete steps onto a field or pitch or court or racecourse, into an arena or onto a pool deck, the inevitability of mistakes and failures is inescapable. This paradigm can be crippling, and the simple act of choosing to step into that competitive arena is one of courage and effort that doesn’t receive enough recognition or honor. For those that choose to play anyway, the ability to keep going requires some skills and some tools. Walking it off is one of them. For an individual, it often takes the shape of literally walking away from the spot where the injury or mistake happened. We create physical space in order to create emotional space. We do it in sports, and anyone who has ever had to sleep on the couch knows that we do it in relationships and everywhere else in our lives. The act of walking it off helps us create the space to make the evaluation, and it also gives time for our emotions to settle. It’s a reset button, and it’s one that we can train - ourselves, our athletes - to use when we need it most. It begins with recognizing the moment.
A sport example: Despite being the league’s leading scorer, I’ve just gone 3 for 11 in the first half of a championship basketball game, many of those misses coming on open layups. I am an emotional player, and needless to say, I am extremely frustrated. At halftime, I walk out of the gym, around the corner, and outside to breathe and reset. I use the bathroom. I drink some water. I come back after a short time, and although the second half is only a small improvement, that space has helped me resolve to do the other things – effort things, like defense and rebounding and setting good screens – to help my team win. I am fouled shooting a corner 3 as time expires - I never said I was going to stop shooting - and sink all three free throws to send the game to overtime. Five minutes later, I hit a buzzer-beater to win it all (city league is still a championship).
Of course, it doesn’t always happen this way, because there is no magical elixir to fix a shooting slump or a losing streak or a past mistake or a sprained ankle. What walking it off really does is create a tiny space, a separation between the injury/mistake/adversity and where we are in a given later moment; this sliver of separation opens up the possibility of choice. Ok, I’m batting 2 for 23 in my last 8 games, but my ability to mentally walk it off creates a space in which I might be able to choose to approach the next at-bat like I’m 0 for 0. I have just turned it over, down by 2 with 30 seconds left, but if I can walk that off, I can refocus on the next defensive possession and choose to give all of my effort in order to get us one more chance with the ball. I’ve just had an argument with the parent of one of my players, and if I can walk it off, I give myself the chance to evaluate the situation and problem-solve rather than reacting and potentially planting my ass in the hot seat. And I can do a real-time check-in with myself about that minor injury and choose to go back out there – or not – from a place of calm and information rather than reaction or emotion.
If you’re saying to yourself, “self, this sounds a lot like when Aaron talks about mindfulness,” then you get the proverbial gold star. Because what “walking it off” really means is that you’re taking time to get yourself back into your body, into the present moment, creating space between stimulus and response so that you can respond rather than react. By learning and utilizing the skill of walking it off, you are giving yourself the gift of mindful, intentional, engaged choice. It is an act of self-awareness; it is self-care and altruism rolled into one, because you’re helping yourself while also helping those around you by coming back into the only place over which you all have any say, which is the present moment.
There is one more way to walk it off, which has nothing to do with altruistic intent or mindful self-awareness. In baseball, when someone ends the game with one swing of the bat, it is called a “walk-off single/double/triple/home run.” Think David Ortiz in Game 4 of the 2004 ALCS (Big Papi, you’re a legend!) to start Boston’s comeback from down 3-0 and eventual ending of the curse of the Bambino…baseball is deliciously superstitious. Anyway, it’s called a “walk-off” because while one team is celebrating on home plate, the other is walking off the field in defeat. The higher the stakes, the tougher that walk becomes. It is likely that every athlete will at some point have to take that walk. And, after reading this blog, I’m sure you can guess what those players need to do in order to eventually move past that loss, learn from it, use it as constructive fuel, and move forward…
Originally published on February 8, 2021